The Victory of the Lions
by ThatHPFan
Summary: Albus Severus Potter is in a tight position. Faced with the prospect of losing the Quidditch Cup after nine successive victories, he turns to his cousin, Rose Weasley, for help. Will the two be able to save the team, or will Albus be forever remembered as the Boy Who Lost? Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns the Potterverse and all its characters, not me.


Albus Potter was looking to at the floor and twiddling with his tie. He was sitting before a very familiar desk in front of an even more familiar person. Professor Longbottom was running out of fuel for his ten-minute lecture, and was about to let them out. "Correct?" Albus jerked his head up and saw that Professor Longbottom was glaring right at him. Malfoy sniggered as he hastily nodded. Professor Longbottom sighed. "If I was any other teacher, I would have you banned from all student activities. Dueling with your peers is unacceptable. I know nothing I say actually sinks in, but try and stay out of trouble for at least the next few weeks, okay?" Both boys nodded in unison. Professor Longbottom sighed. "Very well, Scorpius, you may go." The blond-haired boy shot Albus another nasty look before departing.

"Albus, please just ignore Scorpius. The final match against Slytherin is coming up in just a couple of weeks, and I really would hate to see our captain banned from the team. It's a lot of responsibility, but I thought you could handle it. If not, I can always make other arrangements…?"

"No Sir, I don't think that needs to happen."

"Good. Albus, make us proud! I'm not proud of you for switching Malfoy's face with his buttocks, but I will be proud when you win me that Quidditch Cup for the ninth year in a row! Get out of my office! Don't you have a pitch to be practicing on?"

Albus rose and left the office, shutting the door quietly behind him. Checking his father's old watch, he saw that heading to the pitch was a waste of time as their practice window was almost over anyway. His heart sank at the thought of his teammates' reactions at him missing yet another practice.

Instead, he worked his way through the deserted corridors to the library where he knew his cousin Rose would be studying, or telling off the first years. Rose was a prefect, and therefore took it upon herself to interpret the rules of Hogwarts in a severe way and punish any criminal acts as mercilessly as possible. She wasn't particularly likeable, but Albus enjoyed her quick tongue and sharp mind, not to mention the fact that she couldn't look over a homework paper without practically rewriting it with "more correct" information. She loved all her cousins, but shared a special bond with Albus that none of the others really wanted.

Sure enough, when he walked into the library, she was bent over an Ancient Runes essay while looking up and scowling continuously at a group of younger students a few tables away. Albus slid easily into the seat next to her, and she did not look up, but instead wrote on a small piece of parchment, _hello Albus._

Albus chuckled slightly. "What's going on?" There was no answer. You always had to ask her the right questions, or else she simply wouldn't answer. "Why are you not talking?"

_It is an ancient Japanese belief that silence purifies the mind. I thought I'd try it out_.

Albus laughed louder this time, causing her to scowl at him.

_Don't you have homework to do?_

Albus ignored this comment, continuing to gaze at Rose as she concentrated on her essay. He was thinking about what Professor Longbottom had said to him. Rose wasn't a bad flyer, and he hadn't been on a broom for ages. "Can you come out and help me practice Quidditch.

Rose smiled. _I guess I can make time later for homework_.

X-x-X

Ten minutes later, they were on the pitch, Rose in jeans and a t-shirt and Albus in his Quidditch robes. Albus took to the skies immediately on his used Nimbus 2000, and Rose followed on a StarPower Ultra that she had borrowed from the broom shed, the Quaffle under her arm. Albus did a lap of the pitch, practicing dives and feints as he went before assuming his place in front of the goalposts. He watched Rose practice throwing and catching the Quaffle for a few moments. "Hey Rosie, come on! Hit me with it!" Rose took firm hold of the Quaffle and began speeding towards the goalposts. Albus' hands tightened on the broom handle as she drew closer. Blood began pounding in his temples, and his vision narrowed. He saw her angling her body for a downward pass, and moved himself accordingly. Then, at the last second, he thought he saw her straightening out. He pulled himself sharply upwards, ready to defend the portside hoop, but there was nothing to defend against. The Quaffle had already passed through the Jack hoop at the bottom, and was zooming to the ground.

Albus sped down after it and grabbed it, pulling back out of the dive and throwing to ball back to Rose. "Again!" he called. After the score become 16-0 to Rose, Albus called a halt. Tears of frustration were pooling in his eyes. "What am I doing wrong?"

"You're so worried about me using a double-feint that you see things I do that I'm not doing. In the heat of a game, no chaser will use a double-feint. Focus on what you feel at first, and don't change your plans at the last minute." She was drenched with sweat, but still, she said, "Come on, let's keep going."

Rose started at the half-court line, and nodded to Albus once before taking off. She threw the Quaffle a short distance, caught it, and continued zooming towards the goalposts. Albus started high up near the portside post so that he could dive to make the catch. As Rose moved closer, Albus sank so that he was in between the portside and the level posts. Rose was still angling for a shoot into the portside, but Albus saw something else in her angle change as she came within twenty yards. He feinted down, hoping to make her change her mind and attempt a sloppy portside throw, and it worked. Rose filled her upward angle, and he pulled back up as the Quaffle left her hand. Time seemed to slow as it pounded through the air toward the portside hoop. Albus was too low to catch it, but he stretched all the same. As the ball spun closer, he launched himself out of his seat, managing to get his fingertips underneath it. It's angle changed slightly, and instead of soaring through the hoop, it hit the topmost rim and bounced cleanly back into Rose's lap.

"It's not a catch, but hey, it's a save!" It was then that it registered in Albus' mind.

"Hey, you broke you vow!"

Rose frowned. "Yeah, you're right. Oh well, I don't think silence really suits me." She laughed, and Albus joined in, relief that he had managed a save spreading throughout his entire body.

The pair continued to practice until the sun began to dip low over the horizon, Albus making more and more saves as the time passed. Finally, Rose called it quits. "You can keep flying if you want, but I want to be changed in time for dinner!"

"Okay, see you later!" Albus didn't want to stop, so he continued flying around the pitch, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his hair and the sun on his face. He grew higher and higher until he could see the castle over the stands. Albus could see Rose making her way back to the oak front doors of the castle. He could see people gathering in the Great Hall through its high glass windows and knew he would have to turn in soon.

He slowly lowered down to the pitch, which was draped in shadow from the stands. He walked to the locker room and got cleaned up and changed into his normal school robes. Then he began making his way back to the castle in the near darkness. He breathed in one last lungful of the fresh and clean night air before stepping through the wide oak doors and heading to the Great Hall.

He immediately located one of his best friends, Damson Simpson, and went to sit by him. Damson was the Seeker on the Quidditch team, and he would be the least angry that Albus had missed practice today. In fact, he didn't bring it up at all during their conversation. They simply chatted about classes and homework, hypothesized ways to annoy their teachers, and about Damson's recent breakup with a fourth-year girl named Laura Douglass. Albus was just finishing his fish pie when Tanner Creevey and Brittany Flitwick approached.

"Way to get kicked off the team, Albus, if you keep up."

"Yes, what's your problem Albus? Why do you keep missing so many practices?"

"Don't worry about it," Albus said with a scowl. "I've got it all sorted out."

"I should hope so, seeing as the match is in two weeks and we have absolutely no updated plan of attack or defense." Albus scowled at them as they left. Tanner was an exceptional chaser but he had such a smart mouth, and Brittany followed his lead no matter what. He turned back to his now sparkling plate and scowled some more until Damson clapped him on the back.

"Don't worry about it mate. It'll all work out fine in the end."

X-x-X

The next week went by smoothly. Albus showed up to every team practice and buckled down. He rode hard, getting better at hovering in place, dropping down and rising up without moving forward. His Nimbus 2000 was extremely well adapted to his body movements, and he hardly had to even lean before the broom rushed to obey. While his team was still angry with him for not arriving for three practices in a row, but they were also pleased by his rise in determination and confidence.

Tensions rose between the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams as the match drew closer. Many people ended up in detention for hexing team players. Albus was glad that Madam Bones was able to heal magical injuries quickly and easily, as three of his players had already been victims to these attacks. Crime spiked so sharply that teachers took to wandering in the corridors between classes, keeping the peace.

Everywhere he went, jeers followed Albus, and Herbology with Hufflepuff was the only class where no one seemed to hate him. Hufflepuff was eager for Gryffindor to win so that they would have an easier time beating the Slytherins and get moved up to second place. Professor Longbottom always had something good to say about his practices, and the entire class would end up talking about Quidditch instead of the similarities between Mandrakes and Lund-Snargles.

He also continued his extra practice with Rose, but now many people would come to cheer him on. He had so little free time now that it was almost like he was someone else. How he missed the days of lounging around on the shore of the lake in the sun, and then sitting by the common room fire at night. Now there was no such freedom. He did homework, studied for the upcoming exams, and practiced Quidditch during the precious hours of sunlight. After dinner, he went straight to his dormitory and flopped into bed, exhausted.

Nevertheless, he continued to urge his team on. They knew they had to beat Slytherin by at least one hundred and twenty points, or else they would be playing Hufflepuff to decide who would be second and third. This meant that it came to himself to keep the Slytherins from making goals and the chaser to stay ahead until Damson could catch the snitch. He was praying for an early catch so that all of his work would not be for nothing.

As the match edged ever closer, he became afraid to go anywhere without at least one other person with him. This was source of sympathy from his supporters and mockery from his enemies. The days passed, bringing more nerves with them, until finally it was Friday and a day before the match. He entered the Great Hall, alone for the first time in days, and headed for the Gryffindor table where he saw Rose, James, and Roxanne sitting together. He went to join them, and they all looked up as he approached.

"Hey Albus," greeted Roxanne, Albus' second favorite cousin behind Rose. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Merlin, Albus, you look terrible!" This came from James, who was unusually serious.

Albus sat down next to Rose and she put her arm around his shoulder. "It'll be okay. Just remember what we've been practicing. You'll do fine." Albus smiled and nodded, his entire body shaking as he realized that in just twelve hours he would heading to the Quidditch pitch. His stomach did somersaults.

Albus sat and watched the others eat, picking at the food they had managed to coax onto his plate. He did not talk, as he did not trust himself to open his mouth. Finally, Rose finished. She stood, pulled Albus up with her, said "Come on", and walked out. They walked through the castle in silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It simply iwas/i. As the approached a familiar portrait on the seventh floor, Rose pulled a familiar item from her bag. The Invisibility Cloak shimmered as she threw it over Albus. The Fat Lady was sitting in her frame with her friend Violet, discussing the outcome of the following day's match. As she approached, Rose said "Priori Incantatem" and the portrait swung forwards. Rose clambered into the common room, followed closely by Albus. T he common room was full of chatty students that would have undoubtedly fallen upon Albus like hawks had they been able to see him. Instead, he managed to twist his way through the mass of figures and made it to the dormitory without meeting anyone. It would have looked suspicious, seeing a door open and close on its own, but Albus didn't care.

Once inside, the noise fell away, and the silence was deafening. Albus did not even get undressed. He fell onto the bed, still wearing his clothes, as well as the Invisibility Cloak, and was asleep in an instant.

X-x-X

Albus stood behind the gates to the Quidditch pitch, listening to the crowd that was already situated in the stands. He was not nervous, he was not excited. He was calm and focused in an intimidating manner. He had eaten a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and fresh bread rolls with honey. Rose had been surprised but pleased with his resolve, talking him through the battle plan over and over again. He had just finished going over it a final time with the rest of the team. With any luck, this would be the last time Gryffindor hit the pitch this year.

The gates boomed open and he stepped into the open air. There was a low cloud cover that was white but thick and would keep out any offending sunlight, and there was almost no wind to allow for interference. He walked forward to the middle of the pitch where the coach, Madam Lawson, waited to referee the match. Scorpius Malfoy walked forward as well, glaring at him with nothing short of malice. Their handshake was forced at best. "Have a good match, Potter. I'll see you in the hospital wing," muttered Malfoy before walking back to meet his team. Albus followed suit.

As Madam Lawson blew her whistle, fourteen players rose into the air. Albus took his place in front of the goalpost as the rest of his team took their places. His chasers, Tanner, Brittany, and Louis Weasley, got into position, hovering about fifteen feet off the ground. His two beaters, Septimus Boot and Joseph Corner, circled another ten feet above them, bats at the ready. Damson was already watching the Snitch from his perch about forty feet above where most of the action would take place. The Snitch was released, followed by the two Bludgers. Madam Lawson threw the Quaffle up amongst the chasers and the game commenced.

"And they're off! It's Creevey with the Quaffle, to Weasley, back to Creevey, to Flitwick, and Flitwick scores!" A great cheer erupted from most of the stands, followed by groans from the Slytherins. Lysander Scamander had not inherited his mother's dreaminess. His voice was quick, confident, and clear and he was totally unbiased about inter-house relationships, which made for the ideal Quidditch commentator.

The Gryffindor chasers scored three more goals before any action came down to Albus' end of the pitch. Rosier brought the Quaffle down, passed it over to Smith who ducked a bludger and passed to Malfoy. The blond boy streaked towards him, aiming for the portside hoop. Albus focused entirely on the ball as it left Malfoy's hand. It began to dip in the air, and Albus realized he was too high. Malfoy was aiming for the jack hoop. So he did something daring. He swung himself over the edge of his broomstick, and his foot just caught the top of the ball in time. It hit the bottom rim of the hoop and bounced down to the turf on the pitch where it rolled to a stop.

Exhilarated at making a save, and delighted in the look on Malfoy's face, he watched as Tanner picked up the Quaffle and began racing across the pitch. For the rest of the game, when the action came down to him, he handled it cleanly, never letting the Quaffle through his hoops and always wearing a confident smile. As the game progressed, the score became 80-0 to Gryffindor. The crowd was simply ecstatic.

But then, the Slytherin seeker, Brandon Zabini, saw the Snitch. Damson was on entirely the wrong end of the field, but nevertheless went soaring after. The game stopped as the seekers battled to grab the tiny winged ball. Damson was on a Firebolt MX, the fastest, sleekest model ever, and it showed as he sped after Brandon. The two boys became neck-and-neck, and Damson began to reach out. Brandon pushed his arm back, and Damson knew what he had to do. He launched himself off of the broomstick wildly grabbing for the Snitch in midair.

X-x-X

Damson's eyes opened slowly. He was in a hospital bed. His teammates were crowded around him. "Did we win?"

Roxanne grinned. "You got the Snitch, buddy!"

"What happened?"

"Well, you kind of jumped off of your broom from twenty feet in the air.

Damson smiled faintly and passed out.

X-x-X

Harry smiled as he opened the letter. Sam, his snowy owl, stood contentedly on the desk beside him, a piece of bacon in her beak. She cooed softly as he unfolded the parchment and began to read.

_Dad,_

_I can't believe it! We won! We won the Quidditch Cup for the ninth year in a row! I'm so excited, and I didn't let a single pass go through my hoops! Damson took a nasty fall right at the end, but he'll be alright. We won! The ending score was 230-0 to Slytherin! HA! Neville says he's really proud of me, because he almost wanted to kick me off the team for not showing up to practices, but I couldn't have done it without Rose's help. She was amazing! We went out every night and practiced, till I finally wouldn't let a single one in. We definitely make a team! Ly commentated on the match; he was good, but not as funny as Thomas was. I wish he would start commentating again! That Scorpius Malfoy is a right git. I swear his mother must be part cat or something, he about clawed the back of my hand off when we had to shake. Honestly, I don't know why they make us bother at all. So, only a month until the end of the year! Wow, exams are coming up fast, just the week after next! I hope Sammy makes the trip alright; she is starting to get a bit old. Give her my love again when she gets there! Give Mum my love as well! LOADS OF LOVE!_

_-Al_


End file.
